


The Tomorrow Fields

by SilverThornFeather



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: A/U, Alternative Universe - No Island, Angst, Drama, F/M, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverThornFeather/pseuds/SilverThornFeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My name is Felicity Smoak and in accordance to the law, I have 38 minutes to live”<br/>Felicity Smoak is a girl like them all. Yet another number in a sea of others before her. It's the year 4045. The American government is made up of one party - the Regime. The White House and Pentagon are abandoned. There are no elections. No ballots. Just them. In an underground bunker on the outskirts of Starling City, Felicity Smoak stumbles upon a secret that threatens not only her life, but also millions of others around her. Determined not to let the secret destroy those she loves, Felicity sets out on a quest, to find those responsible and destroy their organisation forever. At least until, she's kidnapped by a stranger in a hood. A man whose eyes are full of danger and hatred. Together they must learn that perhaps, there is room enough for both of them and that perhaps they need to find another way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy!  
> I'm not 100% sure where the idea for this stemmed from......but.....here it is none the less! I'm making these characters more my own so I apologise if they seem out of character at times but I assure you eventually they'll morph into the two little fluffballs we all know and love.  
> Also, this is going to be a split person narrative - I'll indicate at the beginning of each chapter which one is talking once Oliver finally comes in (in about 2 chapters time) but for now, I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave a comment telling me where you see the story going or if you can tell what's going to happen! 
> 
> Much Love
> 
> Sliver x

Prolouge:   
He thrusts the lamp into my face and I reel backwards. My nose is burning. There’s blood pooling in my mouth, dribbling down my chin. A cut above my forehead drips off of the corner of my brow and wets my cheeks. It takes me a moment to realise I’m crying in crimson. 

“Tell me where he is!” He hisses, wielding the shattered lamp above his head, threatening to strike me again. I say nothing, simply staring into his eyes, daring him to hit me again.   
“You bitch!” the man growls, “Tell me where he is!” he screams, smashing the metal pole against my face. I hear a crack. I try to scream. But my fractured jaw prevents anything more than a groan from escaping my lips. 

“You’ll tell me soon enough, you know you will. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, I’ll have my sport, I’ll make you scream first, then you’ll tell me. So I’ll ask you again while you still have the capacity to think. Tell me. Where. he. is!” he spits, giant blobs of saliva landing in my eyes and against my lips. I grimace and try to wipe it off with my shoulder, my bound hands preventing me from wiping it completely.

Looking down at my blood-stained hands, I briefly wonder whether or not it was worth it. The friends I had lost. The people who I’d abandoned only to be beaten hands down by the one thing I was supposed to be fighting against. Betrayed by the one thing that was supposed to protect me.   
The Cause was losing the war. Had sent me to try my luck. Force their hand. They were desperate. And so was I. Desperate to be free of this, free of them.   
But it was The Cause that had taught me to finally live. In a world where my people are outcasts. Oliver had taught me everything I ever wanted to know. And gave me the one thing the Regime thought they’d eradicated long ago – Hope.

I raise my head with newly kindled resolve. And utter the Word  
. The Word that was taken from us so long ago it had almost been forgotten. 

A people conditioned to forget the one thing that’d grant them what they’d wished for, for so long. “No.” 

Then it all went black.


	2. Defiance - Felicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! 
> 
> Thanks a bunch for returning! Thanks for all your support on the first part of this story - you guys are all ace!  
> For now though! On with the story! 
> 
> Love  
> SIlver x

Chapter 1 

It's raining. Rain like I've never seen before. Huge droplets running in rivulets down the window pane, pooling in shallow puddles on the windowsill.

The sky is dark,dense with black clouds for as far as the eye can see. The noise is almost deafening. Some of the Maitland kids are cowering in the corner, snot smeared across their faces. 

But I like it.

The smell of damp that wafts from the gap between the glass and the mortar reminds me of my grandmother's laundry shop. I feel tears prick at my eyes but I don't let them fall. Strength is the only thing that'll ensure you survive out here. 

I'm acutely aware that I need a bath. We all do. Though it's less than a fortnight since my last.

That's it. That's all we get. One bath to last you a month. No more, no less. 

The Wardens make sure of that. 

Jumping the queue would be easy enough. But no one dares. Not any more. Not after the last time. 

Our Rites state that every one person you jump in front of earns you 10 lashes. Number Four Hundred a Forty-Nine got 70.There was blood. So much blood. Blood everywhere. Splattered across the floors.

They took him away. Dragged off by two Wardens, limp limbs dangling from a stretcher. I never saw him again. They left nothing. Like he was never even there. 

But he was. 

The bloody pulp which clung to my sponge was confirmation enough of it. 

It's completely silent, save for the raindrops pelting down on the roof overhead. Two wardens guarding the entrance, scythes strapped to their backs. “Protection” they call it. 

They're to stop us getting out. 

Sometimes I like to imagine what's going on in their heads. I wonder if they're feeling what we are. The loneliness of it all, this place, this country. Wonder if they empathise with us at all. But their steely faces and stern eyes are too strong a blockade for anything more than wonder.  
But when they whip us, beat us,scream at us, the ghost of a smile etched across their lips, I'm pretty sure that most of the time, I wouldn't want to know what goes on inside them. These hollow shells of men.  
Stripped of all of their emotions save for fear. 

“Get down from there Wretch!” One of the Wardens shouts. 

It's at times like these I wish I had a brick to throw at their heads. 

I climb down from the window seat. Slowly. Sliding off of the ledge. Landing delicately on the balls of my feet.

I can tell it infuriates them. The Warden who called me starts to clench his gloved fists, eyes narrowed into dangerous looking slits. I ignore him and walk over to my pack, stooping low to retrieve my sleeping bag from inside. 

“Should've done that ages ago. With the others.” He says, coming to stand behind me, peering over my shoulder intrusively. 

I ignore him, pulling the pillow from inside my pack, laying it down atop of the open covers. 

“You listening to me? I said you should've done it ages ago.” He says, his voice has an edge to it. The sort of tone you know not to mess with. 

If you're not me that is.

“Yeah. And you should've stepped out of my personal space AGES ago.” I snarl, glaring at the Warden from under my lashes. His face contorts into an almost wolf like snarl, his cheeks tainted with scarlet. 

“Why you insolent little -” he screams, rushing at me, snatching up a fistful of my hair into his big sweaty palms. 

“One Hundred, Stand down immediately! I repeat Stand down! ” The Autotape sounds above us and I'm loathed to admit I’m glad of it. 

“What?” He shouts to the sky, “she directly disobeyed orders sir. Don't you think she ought to be taught a lesson? I'm sure 30 lashes should do the trick. If you'd just let me-” 

“Stand down.” the Autotape crackles slightly. “I have a different sort of punishment for her. Bring her to the basement. “ 

There was silence. 

And then they came for me. A whirr of noise whipping around us. Their metal boots ringing about the hall. 

Three of them. Scythes raised high above their heads. 

They grabbed whatever they could find, pulling me towards my fate. 

I was thrust into the light. 

Blinded. 

And I knew nothing more, except for that light. 

 

I awake to find my wrists and ankles bound with a thick cord. My back lashed to a chair. It doesn't surprise me, afterall;

I've been here before.

The room is empty, save for two Wardens stood either side of the steel door barring both entry and escape. 

I have an itch on my right shoulder, I bend my head towards it, angling my chin to try and relieve the annoying tingle at the juncture of my neck. 

A Warden stalks towards me, the sound of his metal boots ringing all about the room. Taking a fistful of my hair he yanks my head backwards, the base of my skull colliding with the top of my chair. 

“Sit still” he barks. His breath smells and I have to fight the urge to bash my forehead against his. 

If it wasn't for the dull throbbing in my own head I probably would have. 

I sit back in my chair and stare at the blank wall in front of me. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It's hours later before anyone comes for me. 

At least, it feels like hours. Who can tell, without a window to track the course of the day. 

My throat is dry. I haven't had a drink since dinner and I'm beginning to feel light headed. My wrists are burning as the rope cuts further into my skin. 

There's an almighty clunk and the door to the room flies open. The Wardens stand to attention, scythes pointed skyward. 

A man walks in, dressed in military uniform. His breast pocket adorned with medals, boots so shiny I can see my reflection in them. He's bald, save for one strand of white hair which looks as if it's trying to escape from under his beret. 

I know the feeling. The feeling of being trapped. Enclosed. Captive. 

“One-Nine-Five?” He asks. I say nothing.  
“One-Nine-Five?” He repeats, striding over to me and shoving his face into mine.  
“Yes Sir” I say. I can't look at him. Won't give him the pleasure of meeting my gaze.

That’s where they find it see. Your fear. It's all in the eyes.

“Come with me.” he says, cutting my bonds with a pen-knife. I roll my wrists around in their sockets,and stand up. 

The door slams shut with an almighty clatter behind us and I am led on. 

Towards some other horror.

Some other fate. 

Some other place where I am not free. 

A pawn in this deadly game. 

I do not doubt I shall be dead soon.


End file.
